Save me

Chapter 4 - Addicted

~Daisy's P.O.V~

I sat down in class, at the back, like I always do. I liked this class. It was art. Here are the reasons:

1. Our art teacher has a thing for death, so we get along great
2. Lewis always sits opposite me
3. We get to do anything we want to.

Most people were just lounging in their seets, on their phone, gossiping. I saw one girl, her miniskirt shorter than usual, her legs positioned in such a way that she flashed her pants pretty obviously. I didn't see the apeale of it. I mean, I wear dresses, like now, but I just wear my daisy pinafore and leggings. Everyone sais that it's ironic that I always wear daisy-patterned clothes, but I honestly do not care. Lewis sat down, his light brown hair falling over his eye. He flicked it out of the way, giving me so many butterflies that I thought they were going to come out. I was in an extremly mind-foggy mood. That mood where nothing matters and you just end up zoning out with your eyes locked on somebody's face or crotch. I always daydream about how my life would be if Lewis asked me out. Always. Well, not always, sometimes it's about getting accepted into society.

"Earth to Daisy, earth to Daisy?" I heard Lewis coo. I snapped back into reality and noticed that I had been staring right at him for the entire time. My breath hitched and I felt my pulse times itself by three. I didn't know what to say. I couldn't say. I could only awkwardly stutter and try not to make eye contact with the smirking brunette.

"I-I-I'm s-so s-sorry!!" I managed to choke out, my pulse so fast that I thought it was about to bear out of my body.

"Don't fret it, Dais, after all, I am attractive." I got more butterflies and my pulse quickened. I met his eyes before quickly looking away, knowing he was going to do everything in his power to get me to say it.

"Y-Your n-not freaking helping!" I shook my head, shouting, covering my face.

"Oh, sorry." He said, acting sad and dissapointed. What does he want from me? Cocky little...
"So tell me, do you have a crush on me?" I rolled my eyes, slowing down my breath.

"I-I'm not saying." He already knew the awnser, but would stop at nothing to get me to say it.

"Don't lie to me." He teased, putting down his sketch book to focus on me.

"Why are you doing this..." I murmered, exhaling then inhaling deeply. "I have a crush on you and I have for the past two months and I'm so sorry I know you don't like me back just don't hate me!" I said as quickly as I could, hoping he wouldn't be able to make out a word of it. But of course, he heard every single word

"I thought so." Was all he said. In a monotome voice. He doesn't care. He's still my friend though, right?... He doesn't hate me. He doesn't hate me. He doesn't... "Don't get the wrong idea, your still my best friend, but honestly you know how it is." He pulled out a piece of paper from the front pocket of his shirt, a piece of paper of a drawing of a wounded heart, pieced together with a plaster and tape. All of the group did this, a little drawing that we keep in our pockets. I blushed a bit.

"Yeah, Yeah, I know." I sighed.

We stayed silent for the rest of the lesson.